The Revenge of Team Mecha
by Ruce
Summary: A seemingly normal group of trainers sets out on ordinary adventure into the world of Pokemon, but even they know it's not so simple. With Team Mecha around every corner posing a serious threat to everyone and anyone, nobody is safe.


The cold breeze whistled between the planked walls of the lonely houses, isolated along a lone street that stretched past the horizon into the bleak winter wonderland; though, it was not so much a wonderland as a windswept plateau, stripped of all its flora and fauna that used to make it a pristine sight for human eyes.

On such a frigid night, the cold winds being a slap in the face for anyone who dares to venture outside, there was little activity in the small town of Snowpoint, sans one glimmering light inside one of the many houses that look cloned from their similarity. That house was the home of Carly, a girl no older than the age of fourteen. While it could be assumed that someone of such an age has others in the house looking after them, this sadly did not apply to her. She had been torn from her parents many years ago, and how she had survived to this point had remained a mystery… however, unbeknown to the rest of the inhabitants of the town, she'd had a little external help in her battle for survival.

Shuffling from the chilly floorboards to the cold, crispy sheets of her bed, Carly thrust her head into her crunchy pillows, the cold linen grasping her face. Turning on her back, she stared up at the ceiling and the dimly lit chandelier that cast light across the dusty bookshelves on the far side of her room. The room was mostly brown in colour, several types of wood constructing the shell of not only her room, but her house in general, and the rest of the furniture was old and neglected, although if it weren't for the many candles that she liked to keep in her room, she wouldn't be able to see how sorry for itself the furniture looked, thanks to the darkness that lingered constantly over the city in these winter months.

Looking over to her window, she could almost see the wind, carrying streams of powdery snow past the window pane, over the mountains and beyond. For a moment, she thought her vision was being obscured, but soon after she realised it was simply the inside of the window pane that was freezing up.

Sighing, she dragged herself off her bed and began to make her way down the wooden steps that creaked with every step. Making a small jump off the final step, she entered her kitchen, a much more modern-looking room, with cupboards lining the walls and floor that gleamed white from any moonlight that happened to find its way through the small windows. Stepping past the dinner table, she picked up the kettle and blasted a jet of water into it from the tap. Placing it back on the kettle holder, she flicked the switch and turned her back to it, pulling out a chair from the table, falling into it and staring out of the frosted window.

Every time she sat down in this kitchen, she couldn't help but wonder the same thing over and over again; what actually happened to her parents? She was aware of strange happenings all those years ago that may have had something to do with it, but she was far too young to understand at the time, and she wasn't keen on showing her face to the other inhabitants of the town (partly because she would probably freeze on the streets prior to reaching anybody else's house). She had no way of knowing. When the news had to be broken to Carly that she was never going to see her parents again, it was Cynthia of all people that came to tell her. She had managed to make it sound as natural as possible how they died, but Carly was older and smarter now; she knew Cynthia wasn't telling the truth. She hated being lied to. People always claimed they had her 'best interests at heart', and that was why they never told her the truth, but if that statement was really true, then they would have known that she hates lies and would have wanted to know the truth. It might kill her a little inside to find out how awfully they could have died, but it was slowly killing her anyway to not know what really happened, and to have the knowledge that she had been lied to so many times.

The thing is, she knew something nobody else did; the people who caused all this misery for her. And it wasn't the people who lied to here. It was Team Mecha. An evil team that was organized little less than five years ago, they took pride in the death of any living thing they deemed useless and unable to contribute to their goals. Now her parents had been taken by them, she knew what was coming next; they were after her.

Her deep thoughts were disturbed by what sounded like a blood-curdling scream, but upon looking towards the hob she noticed it was just the kettle boiling. Lifting herself out of her seat and not bothering to return it to its place under the table, she picked up the kettle with one hand, and opened the cupboard with another hand, taking out a large dish. She then poured the steaming hot water into the dish, put the kettle back, and made her way back upstairs again.  
What she was doing was not abnormal; she had to do it quite often. It wasn't a good idea to leave the inside of the window frozen, so she had to thaw it out with hot water every now and then. She poured the heated liquid over the single-glazed window, and watched as it dripped on to the floorboards and seeped between the gaps. Beneath her room lay the garage, which was probably turning into a pool by now judging by all the water she'd used this winter, but it didn't matter at all to her; nobody ever went in that garage, not even her parents before they left her.

As she began to take the dish back downstairs, she heard a slow knock on the door. Freezing on the steps, her mind was flooded with the thoughts of who on earth would bother knocking on her door. She'd made a point of telling all the locals not to bother her unless she specifically asks them for assistance quite a while ago, so it can't be any of them. And considering that the town is pretty close and she knows just about everyone in Snowpoint, it must be somebody who she does not know. She crouched down as low as she could without tumbling down the stairs, and stealthily crept across the cold kitchen tile, before carefully sliding the dish back into the cupboard, not bothering to dry it in fear of the unwelcome visitor standing outside her door; for all she knows, they could be staring through the window pane at this very moment.  
It got to the point where it could be considered the person had left, and she began to stand up again, before she heard the knock again, this time much louder, more aggressive and rapidly. Whoever was at the door meant business, and whatever business it was, Carly didn't like what it.

Her heart thumped in her throat as she edged towards the door, daring to take a peek out of the window first. Nobody. "They must be over the other side of the door," she mumbled to herself. Carefully turning the key and twisting the door knob, she began to creak the door open.

The wind hit her like a well-aimed mattress and almost sent her flying back into the kitchen. "Who on earth goes knocking on strangers' houses in this weather?" She shouted to herself, trying to make herself heard above the deafening wind coursing throughout her shaking house. She almost had to crawl to the door this time to avoid being blown backwards, but she was determined this time to find out the moron who decided to disturb her.

Looking from left to right on the deserted street, all she could see was powdered snow spread evenly across the tarmac street as if it were icing on a cake, the flurries of the white powder being thrown about by the wind, obscuring her view of the opposite side of the street. There was no other human in sight; the only other living things within her view were a few unfortunate Zubat who had got themselves trapped in the vortex of winds, and some Rattata scavenging her dustbin for scraps. She was just about to make her way back inside again, when she found herself completely unable to move her foot. Disorientated and confused for a moment, she tried desperately to move her immobile limb, before finally deciding to look down to see what on earth had happened. Disbelief on her face, she stared at her foot… or rather, what she could still see of it. Her entire foot had been engulfed by an ice crystal, that had stealthily taken a chance to seize her while she had been stood still, looking for the mysterious visitor. It wasn't long before a horrified look appeared on Carly's face, as the icy mass began to enlarge and creep up her leg, engulfing the limb and restricting her movement entirely. She tried to let out a feeble scream, but it was no use; her voice was whisked away by the winds, and not a soul was near to hear the desperate cries for help. It wasn't long before she realised she had no hope; her entire lower half was now frozen, and she was cold it almost felt as if her skin was burning. In a matter of seconds, the bitter winds hid her face from view as her entire body was claimed by the expanding ice…

A sly grin was etched on the man's face as he crouched down and whispered something to the blue feline sat beside him. Stepping out from behind the houses, he took a few seconds to take in the sight; a girl frozen inside gleaming blue ice, with one arm extended as if she was about to reach for something. Smirking, he stepped towards the frozen girl as the winds slowly died down, eventually ceasing to a few light snowflakes that drifted in the light breeze. Turning around and facing the feline again, he watched as it pawed the snow gently.

"Nice work Glaceon. It's always handy to have a strong Ice-type around," he praised the Ice-type. Glaceon looked up at its trainer, the moonlight gleaming in its eyes.

"Tut tut... someone never learned not to answer the door to strangers," the man mocked Carly, unsure of whether she could actually hear him or not.  
She could, though. Carly could hear everything. Even through the massive block of transparent ice that stopped her from making any reaction. The cold had become so unbearable that she felt as if she was burning in hell... for all she had done in the past, this must be her punishment... and she felt herself slipping... slowly slipping away...


End file.
